Listen up, mateys, and listen good. 'Ere be the bit o' the rag where Red Molly Rackham (that'll be me) explains to ye how ta impress the wenches and such-like, without crackin' Jenny's tea cup. If ye be a bright and hygienic lad and ye listen well, ye may end up with a bonny lass ta warm yer bed tonight. If'n ye don't, like as not there'll be a wench this eve who'll 'ave yer guts fer garters!

First off, ye mangy fool, ye've probably been at sea fer no short time. Now, a dirty, sweaty man in the company of a dozen other similarly filthy lads is what ye'd be callin' a fine deckhand. Put that man in the same room as a fair lass, and what ye have is somethin' we ladies be callin' "knee glue". So boys, when ye head ashore, remember: a smelly pirate is a lonely pirate. Steal yerself a bar o' soap from a landlubber. 'Ave a wash in the bay--wenches love ta smell the sea on ye, not the voyage.

So ye be scrubbed right proper. What now?

Wenches be fools fer a bit o' shine, so 'ave a look at yer 'ard-earned plunder. Be there a sparkly bauble or two that might please a lass? Go on, clean the blood off o' that rope o' pearls. A bit o' spit and polish on that governess's ring (minus the finger it came on, unless ye be wooing a lady pirate, mate) and it makes a fine courtin' gift.

Our next topic be hard ta swalla' fer any pirate: flowers.

I ken what ye be thinking. "Yarr! Oi be a fierce and bloodthirsty rake-hell; oi can't be seen prancin' about wif no handful o' posies!" And right ye be, but worry not. The wench who casts 'er eye on a pirate's booty be not the sort o' lass who'll be wantin' candy and blooms from 'er man. A nice pint, fetched for 'er by a good-'umoured sailor, and a tug or two off yer pipe will put any wench worth 'er corset strings in a fine, "receptive" mood.

Yer wench be gifted and loaded to the gunwhales, and ye be full entranced by the womanly charms spillin' out o' her bodice. So how is an honest pirate ta seal the deal?

Simple as sailin', me hearty. Ye be havin' a giant ace up yer sleeve, and it be called a bloody great, grand pirate ship! What hot-blooded wench was ever born that took a job at a sea-side tavern, and could resist the lure of a boat full o' swag? Take a walk with her down ta the docks, matey, and prepare ta board!

"I will not rest until every year families gather to spend December 25th together at Osama's homo-abortion-pot-and-commie-jizzporium."

You be forgettin' one impartant thing in the way of wooin a pirate lass:

Teeth: I had all mine yanked and replaced with gold.....

Then some lubber in a swank suit offered me a rap album deal

Scowlin' Hidalgo Bones, I ain't no punk from the projects, but a bloodthirsty ghost faced killa with a eight pound cannon for a gat, and Ill cut your head off and use it for a hood ornament on my ship!

'There are no atheists in foxholes' isn't an argument against atheism, it's an argument against foxholes."-James Morrow

YYYAAAARRRR - Oiy left most o my teeth in the side of a Tiger Shark what wanted ta remove me other leg. Instead Oiy keeps the sharks teeth on a fine necklace what Oiy wears to impress the ladies... it don't help me smile though!

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.

black bart wrote:YYYAAAARRRR - Oiy left most o my teeth in the side of a Tiger Shark what wanted ta remove me other leg. Instead Oiy keeps the sharks teeth on a fine necklace what Oiy wears to impress the ladies... it don't help me smile though!

are them teeth still sharp? ye could use tha sharp ones ta poke out thar eye of yar adversaries!

daftbeaker wrote:But if I stop bugging you I'll have to go back to arguing with Qwerty about whether beauty is truth and precisely what we both mean by 'purple'

Any statistical increase in the usage of the emoticon since becoming Admin should not be considered significant, meaningful, or otherwise cause for worry.

This be a bloodcurdlin game o' terror. In it, yer plays un unnamed pirate who finds himself alone in the streets o' Portsmouth just after the taverns 'ave chucked out. Yer must fight yer way through legions o' the hellish locals an get back to yer ship in one piece.

There be plenty here to test yer skills. The enemies range from the easy (the mad parrot) to the middling (the grog filled hag), to the insanely difficult (the pressganging crew on a bender). The variety of enemies be truely astonishing, and accurately portray the vile abominations that drink in the Portsmouth area.

The game's arsenal be impressive. As in all these sorts o' games, yer starts out with feeble weaponry (in this case a pencil sharpener), an' picks up bigger weapons like the broken bottle, the flintlock, the spring loaded club hammer, the telescopic guttin knife, the rotating hook attachment, an the two bladed cutlass. Yer eventually ends up wi' the BFG 1000 (a shoulder mounted 12 pounder).

When ye has such weaponry as this at yer disposal, ye can expect there t' be a fair amount o' blood 'n guts in the game. Indeed, this be the case. There be so much, that I wouldn't be letting anyone under the age o' six or seven play this.

There is a multiplayer mode, but personally, I's don't see the point. Tis easier to go outside and have a cutlass fight fer real than set up all this ISDN Bilgeband Etherrat nonsense.

The game played well on me Babbage Difference Engine running Portholes XP, and only slowed down during the fight with the travellin Millwall supporters.

That be a mighty fine review. But how did yer get yer hands on a Babbage Difference Engine? I've been on the waiting list fer over a century and oi heard that even if oi stay camped outside the Babbage store in Oxford Street it still might not be here for Christmas.
Me wench thinks I'm mad, but oi told her playing games using log tables calculated by clergymen jest isn't the same.

An Arrrbjective and Balanced Comparrrison of Modarrrn Weaponry to Piarrratical Weaponry

Arr! Oi've spent some time in yon mystical land known to the pirates of the Intarrrnet only as "Real Life." And in this 'ere land, thar apparently be some landlubbin' youngstarrrs who be thinkin' that theirrr newfangled technology kin best ours. Since this be obviously false, Oi've spent houarrrs researrrchin' all these 'ere gadgets, and am 'ere to prove how miserarrrbly pathetic they be.

Now, this 'ere be Portly Jim. He be ouarrr test dummy.

Victuals be a key part of sustainin' life. Now, when we pirates be cookin', unless it be pasta, we be in a perpetual fight with our grub. So, what be the landlubbers' primary weapon 'gist food? I introduce to ye...

The Silicone Spatula

Now, when we need ter wrestle with our food, we simply use the hook! So, what be the effect of each on Portly Jim's arms?

The Spatula leaves a little red spot on the right arm.

Portly Jim won't be usin' this arm no more!

Now, Oi be walkin' along, when I sees two little young'uns duelin' with these, tryin' ter hit each other:

So, Oi wonders what they be doin' with such little things, when Oi realizes: They be trainin' for when they kin join some landlubber equivilant of a scurvy crew! These must be the newest secret weapons!

So, lesse what they does to Jim's legs:

Leaves a nice little bruise...

Now, if'n Oi be duelin', Oi use a rusty cutlass. But that ain't fair. These be blunt objects. So, Oi thinks to meself, what sorta blunt object would a pirate use...?

What happens when Jim's leg gets hit with the mast of one of me old ships

Now, with this 'ere aresnal, what do ye do in a scuffle 'ginst 'er Royal Navy? Well, Oi say it all depends on the ship. Now, it seems to me that mosta these 'ere landlubbers sail this sorta contraption:

So, what happens to Jim 'ere if we drives this thing into him at 20 knots or so?

Ooh! First soign of any true damage. Sever traumarrr all ovarrr, and bit o' blood where the ribs popped through

Well, this may foinally have some potential! But just to be sure, Oi sailed me Galleon into 'im.

That be some foine advice there Alpaca. Oi'll never look at a silicone spatula as a humble kitchen instrument again. Per'aps Oi could use it on me Cook, for he be givin everyone 'the runs' lately (and Oi don't mean the game of Cricket either). That damn Chum Casserole be killin us!!